Cut the deck in three

Tomorrow I head out on holiday for the land of gun toters and weed smokers, Colorado Springs.



Sayonara New York Shitty, I love you but I've got to go be thankful that I didn't crack my head open when I passed out this morning.
More on that later.
Thanksgiving really is the only holiday I can stomach to be honest.
Being thankful is really fantastic, I am a fan.
I am thankful for my beautiful intelligent loyal hardworking hilarious supportive ladyfriends.
I am thankful for my family of course.
I am thankful for my second chances.
I am thankful for my home, my gigantic (by nyc standard) cold dark cave. I feel so happy when I open the door and I see my cats waiting and a little Jesus nightlight glowing in the bathroom.
I am thankful for my health now more than ever because it seems the older you get, the more people you know get sick, or just up and die of some tragedy.
Enough of that.
Jesus Christ.

Anyway.
Back to fainting.
Its very gay, fainting.
Its sickening and its a weakness.
Its totally scary and weird and its the kind of thing I associate with drama queens, mental patients, and old Hollywood starlets.
PS I didn't swoon.
It wasn't pretty.
I fucking dropped like a grand piano off a 10 story building.
It was HORRIBLE.
But don't worry about me I am fine.
No blood.
No bruises.
Just a really frustrating tick in my mind. Whispering oh man. you hot hot mess. what is wrooooong with you

Its just a medical condition, some old school vasovagal fight or flight response.
But its making me feel like I must be a total basket case inside there.
Deep down in the personality waters.
This was not my first 'spell', I've had Tony Soprano syndrome for years now, its just that this time there was someone here to say "Oh my God are you ok?"
And I have to admit.
That was the worst part of the whole thing.
I've been outed.
So I'm going the distance and blogging the shit out of this shit.
I feel better already.

Went out to 'dinner' last night meaning I watched C.O. (Complicated One ... just trying to make my life easier) eat posh sushi and I drank about 5 beers.
I'm not afraid to eat.
I eat all the time.
I just happened to not be hungry at all.
I hate it when you're out and not eating and you have to wonder... do those people over there think I have an eating disorder???
I bet they did.
Fuck those people.
Anyway we sat by a little window with a pretty miniature tree outside.
It made me happy.



Another thing that made me happy:

C.O. and I had a creepy moment standing in the sort-of-rain both taking pictures of this supremely radical van. iPhone vs. Blackberry, mutual photo taking... iPhone wins.

I decided I should christen my new Thornburg dress last night.



Its lovely.
It merits ballet actually.


No I did not wear moccasins out in public with my beautiful new dress.

Anyway we got home and Dop was pissed.
Some firemen burst into our place like renegades claiming someone reported a fire.
Nope.
No fire.
What?
Yes.
The lady upstairs is so crazy that she reports fake fires just to create draaaamaaaa.
I am living in a nightmare sometimes.




Every single one of my friends is a photographer.
Why is that.


People drink beer and then think they are the first person to discover that photobooth is fun.


Oh hi, Shaman murderer Jesus scientist hunter dragon slayer people eater bigfoot hero magician cyclops.
I like your hat.

Don't worry I have those days.

Show of hands if you love Olivia Malone photography

I want to retake that picture only wearing this jacket.

My ebay wins are really killing it right now.

Not killing it?

Octopus man.

Also not killing it?
Waiting to pack until the last minute.
I fail.
Call me and remind me to bring my toofbrush

NSFW if you actually have a job. Which you don't.

Wow really interesting stuff happening.

Tuesdays are fucking wiiiild!
(opposite meaning should be applied)

Right now in case you all need to know, I'm drinking a stella and eating one of those giant dutch cocoa cookies WHICH I got on sale. A dollar for a pack of eight!
Big things!
Whilst perusing my local grocery, I found a gnarly fucking plastic rat guarding the Ragu.


Effective.


After two and a half days of working, tending to semi-sick babies, keeping up appearances, staying late, the whateverthefuck, I am always ready for a drink Tuesday afternoons.
i would never have the audacity to actually complain about my job because I'm not stupid.
I know working less than 30 hours a week and getting the rent paid is a lucky break no matter how you cut it.
Also, the food alone is totes worth is.
This customer?
Supes sats!
(abbreviation credit goes to Stephanie on that one)

Anyway, the weather is changing and I have nothing to wear except a couple flannels that I keep hanging in the closet for all seasons.
My ballstomping Frye boots are back in full effect, but they make me look like an angry lesbian I'm beginning to realize.



If I was a lesbian I would not be angry I don't think, I would just be annoyed because women are a handful.
They are so sensitive.
Everything is a big deal.
Your tone of voice may cause a six week break up at the very least.
God forbid you ditch her for your mans and them.
Oh, you are in deep deep dark shit my friend.

Very few notable things have happened in the past few days.
My apartment still looks like someone just moved out 2 days ago.
Waste of space Krissy cmon now.

I deposited some money in the now defunct Wachovia Bank.
I only deposited because I owe Cingular aka AT&T a couple hundy.
They absolutely RAPED me when I got the iphone.
Hi, thanks, thats great, cause the phone itself didn't cost quite enough, and the plan...yeah very affordable.
Assholes.
Look who fell for it.
ME.
PS my mom bought me my iphone so you can disregard all ranting about how expensive it is.
It didn;t come from my pocket but jesus christ thats not the point.
Horrifying side note: As we speak, the phone is frozen. Has been for about 10 minutes. No, no thats fine, I'm pleased.
I'll just use it as a card table.
Or I can put it under the side of my couch that droops a little.
Honestly, I really like the phone.
Thanks Mom.
But sometimes I feel like I have imprisoned myself willingly to the new frontier of NEVER SPEAKING TO ANYONE FACE TO FACE AGAIN.
Oh awesome you can just text me.
Excuse me total stranger don't look at me/try to converse can't you see I'm busy listening to Pandora/playing Bricks/notating things on my iCal/updating my facebook status/watching vintage internet porn??
Yes I do all of those things while walking around.
Including the porn part.
But only this video really...

Diesel SFW XXX - Watch more free videos

PS if you are my mom, or someone elses mom, or amazingly uptight, or someone I once worked for. I would rather you ignore that I posted this.
I'm a great nanny. And a loving daughter. Etc.
But I also like to watch sex acts on video.
Big deal get over it.

Here are some rust/decomposed ghosts at the Broadway/Lafayette stop on the F.
Downtown side.
I think they are pretty amazing.



Its like when those people see the Virgin Mary on toast.
You have to be there to feel the ill spirit vibes.
Go fuck yourself.

Back to meeeeee.
LA Annabelle (who i like to imagine as a super classy chola)

has suggested that the next Fuck that Guy be Justin Timberlake.
I think that is a good call.
There are a couple other options, but Porto and I have fallen off the last couple weeks.
Must be all the hard core partying mixed with successful ladder climbing we're into.
If you google us, you'll just get an image of a spinning supernova.
Ripping through space and time.
We have really got it like that.
Ask anyone.

Anyway the point is, fuck that guy resurfaces Thursday at the latest.
I'm so sure you're peeing your satin panties waiting.
That means you, secretly cross dressing men reading my blog.

Speaking of cross dressing men,
I dare someone to make sense of Posh's boots.





The monstrosity that is Posh is certainly not helped by whateverthefuck she melted her feet into.
I'm sorry, but your chances of not being an alien are now nil.
You're officially both retarded and totally unexplainable as a creature.
PS I sort of love you.

Brad Pitt needs more money.

Finally back in the city, been gone since Thursday afternoon and for the love of god I miss my apartment.
I still haven't been there.
Ugh. This work day too shall pass.

I really don't have the energy to get into tales of Redwood, NY and the Memorial Weekend hijinx, but I will later.

In the meantime, Liv is in a show tomorrow evening, def go check it out. You will see boobs. Naked ones.
Score!



I guess its an auction too and the profits go to Brad Pitt's New Orleans fixem up charity. Good Cause, Good Cause.


Nice blog Krissy.
You didn't do a good job.






Great Job!

Nonrelated material

Anthropomorphic Arousal





Primal Drival


Back in the saddle babies.
Three days of blogging in a row.
That could mean any number of things.
Most likely it means I am trying to get a grip and stay in this apartment so I don't go traipsing around throwing money into the gutters.
Because I might as well do that, considering what I buy. Dinner sometimes. Vodka. A car to pick me up AFTER the vodka. Its all a very slippery slope. Don't bend over for the soap.
Two good sayings, used for very varied situations.

I am excited about a couple of things currently.
One of them is the fact that I have a week off later this month.
Free time is one of those double edged sword thingies.
Oh, rad....FREE TIME!
On the other side, idle hands get into trubbies.
I'm not sure of the exact phrasing, but thats cause I don;t have a pepaw to call up and use as my reference. I have to rely on myself, and only old timers know that kind of stuff. Example: All pepaws know: "Spare the rod, spoil the child."
Really?
Good call grandpa, lets beat our kids so they don't come out brats.
Better to make them violent future wife beaters. Excellent theory.

Back to week off.
I definitely have to go to Albany to see Beebs and I definitely have to disappear to Jersey for a couple of days.
I miss my friend who I have known for over ten years. Whenever I see her she makes me laugh so hard I usually hurt myself. Or pee myself. I feel no shame about that by the way. No one EVER admits to peeing in their pants or in a bed or between parked cars. But I'll be serious for a minute.
Sometimes.
When I have to pee.
I consider doing it in LOTS of places I'm not supposed to.
That brings me right back around to my old dear friend I was mentioning. One night, probably about a year ago, I took her and her girlfriend to Home Sweet Home. We drank alot, and ended up walking home in the rain I think.
After a block or so of having to pee, she pulls her pants down and pees into a IRON WIRE GARBAGE CAN.
Like the kind you can see right through basically.
It was amazing.
This is the kind of shit you cannot make up.
Only making it more hilarious is the fact that there are other humans walking around, and she is singing a song she has made up on the spot.
Something about humping the rain as I recall.
The label immature does not apply, nor does uncouth.
She was simply existing freely like a animal would.
Don't hate because the release of fear of judgement would cause us to ALL relieve ourselves in public and sing all the while.

I don't remember what I was talking about.

Side note:


Jackies still got the touch.

Poosday

So Tally Dead Dead and I were discussing what the weeks all about.
I think Sunday is like torturous early labor, Monday is like the birth, and Tuesday is the horrific pointless afterbirth. Gross, good God, why did you make Tuesdays. Or Ruby Tuesdays for that matter. Imagine being so bum that you are a notch below TGI Fridays in the chain restaraunt pecking order. Hi I'll have the goat cheese fiesta hotdog bites to start. And the shits for dessert.
I always have lame Tuesdays, it's like a universal rule.
Wednesdays are my astrologically in tune days. Never a prob.
Thursdays are why-can't-I-just-call-out-tomorrow days and Fridays are Fridays. Awes.

Tally is probably the best person to have this conversation with though because hes she a creep.
Originally his name was Twirl, but that kind of moniker wears off easily. Tally has been calling me Precious lately, or just Presh. I'm into it. He thinks I will hate it but he's wrong like always.
Tally used to tell the best stories about unloading trucks for a living. He lives in some podunk town in Pennsyltucky and is maybe the raddest thing to come out of the woods since Grendel.
Seriously.
He makes everyone laugh what with his slow mo winking and awkward joke delivery.
The first time he came to my mums in jersey we tried to start fires in the yard and we ate stir fry.
We also found out we speak in a similar retardo language and laughed about salt and pepper shakers the size of garden statues.
Tally looks like Holocaust Jesus but hes way less intense than the image projects. He's like a burst of dandelion scented wind passin through. He shows up in Chinatown eating raw chef Boyardee raviolis babbling about about making music out of old tape recorders, twigs and string.
Tally likes to drink rum and cokes and rubs it in my face that they are about 75 cents at these townie bars he frequents in PA. Sometimes I have to hear about him tripping balls and discovering the universe like a fucking mushroom yogi.

Tally annoys me so much sometimes I just want to break off his Olive Oil legs and beat him with them but then again he's the best thing to ever have found me on the internet. He is such a genius at being alive. Like not actually DOING anything, but having all this stuff to talk about anyway.

And ya can't tap thee-at.